Illya and The Mullo
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: It's a simple rescue - just go in and find his friend among a labyrinth of rooms. He did it once and everything went well. All Illya had to do was face his fear and a very bad memory.


Pulling his hat down further over his blond hair, Illya Kuryakin attempted to study the layout of the land. The mist had been building for the last hour and seemed to have doubled its effort over the last few minutes. It was practically impossible to see anything of the building except for a dark outline against the cloud-enshrouded sky.

"Can you see anything?" Tom Macciardi crouched a bit closer to Illya and the senior agent smiled. Leading a rescue party of Section Two junior agents wasn't Illya's idea of a good time, but Napoleon was somewhere in that labyrinth of a structure and he needed all the hands they could get.

"Not much. It's too obscured," Illya answered, handing him the binoculars. "See what you can see." To be honest, he was merely biding his time until the other two rescue parties were in place. Normally Illya would have preferred to go in himself, but the place was so big, it would take him a lifetime to find Napoleon. By his reckoning, Napoleon didn't have a lifetime.

His communicator chirped.

"Kuryakin."

"Illya, just wanted to let you know that we are in place." Mark's voice was tinny and thin sounding in the dank mist. "Quite the Halloween setting, don't you think?"

"Leave it to Napoleon to be taken to Dr. Frankenstein's castle." At Macciard's surprised look, Illya smiled slightly. "Never fear, it's just a figure of speech. We are in the US, after all," he murmured to the young man. "Get your team ready, Mr. Macciardi."

"Illya, I'd bring your group in from the North. It seems to be the least guarded entrance."

"Odd. Any reason why?"

"Seriously, mate? They think that part of the building is haunted. This place is supposedly one of the most haunted places here, according to what research tells me."

"Mark, do you know what Mr. Waverly would say if he heard you?"

"I know I'd be doing stakeout duty for the next five months if Napoleon heard me."

There was a laugh from the agents behind him and Illya smiled. Mark had a knack of defusing tension.

"Then let's go get him. Channel D out." Illya glanced back over his shoulder at his fellow agents. "Gentlemen, it's time."

Quickly they moved through the woods to the north entrance of the building. In the mist, it looked eerie and more than a little frightening, but Illya didn't worry about that. All he wanted was to get in and out safely and with all his agents, plus one more. Napoleon had to be here.

Two of the agents put their shoulders to the door and managed to push it open wide enough for Illya to squeeze in.

Mark wasn't joking when he'd said they didn't guard this entrance. Illya couldn't spot a single lookout and he gestured behind him. He took another step and the moon broke from behind a cloud. Illya gasped and felt as if he'd been sucker punched.

"Are you sure about this?" Illya pushed his hair from his face and looked over at his friend, Onas. This had been Illya's summer with the gypsies. It had been one of education and enlightenment. They'd taken Ilya under their wing and taught him the Gypsy way. In exchange, he taught the younger ones reading and math. He and Onas had grown very close this summer.

Onas looked about to throw up. Waves of fear rolled off him and Illya longed to grab his friend by the hand and drag him back to camp. Damn Riley for even suggesting this. Onas was teetering on the edge of manhood, at least to their way of thinking. In another month, he would turn thirteen and in another year, he could take a wife, yet he was still seen as a child because he hadn't proven himself.

"We can go back, Onas. There's no shame in being cautious." Illya squeezed his friend's shoulder, feeling it shake behind his fingers.

"Nonsense. It's time to prove himself. I heard the men talking last night after Lavinia had taken Kezai off to bed." Riley was a few years older than Illya and Onas. Why he choose to stay with them, instead of the older boys and men was a mystery. "One of them, Emilian, was saying that he even saw a spirit."

Illya laughed. "That's Emilian! He's afraid of his own shadow. Not even Baba Yaga would have anything to do with him."

"You shouldn't scoff, Golden." Riley used Illya's Romani name, a reference to his blond hair. "You're still young. As you get older, you'll realize that there are more things in this place than we can ever know. If Onas enters this place, it will prove he's a man." Riley gave Onas a rough hug. "He doesn't understand, does he, Onas?

"This is important, Golden," Onas whispered, as if afraid of his own voice. "You aren't Romani. You don't know."

"I know I'm freezing," Illya said. "Either we go in or we leave."

"We're going in," Onas said, the slight tremor in his voice belying his bravado.

Riley led them to the front door. "It's rumored that this was an orphanage during the Civil War, except that they were using the children for experiments. Emilian said he could hear them crying out."

"He probably heard an owl." Illya pushed his way past Riley, eager to speed up the proceedings. He figured the faster they were in and out, that much sooner they'd be back around the campfire, singing and laughing.

"You'll get yourself into trouble one of these days, Golden." Onas followed, keeping a hand on Illya's shoulder.

The door opened into what looked to be a massive lobby. Nature had been doing its best to reclaim the area. Numerous small trees had taken root and the marble floor, once polished to a high gloss, was now littered with forest detritus. A staircase wrapped its way along the west wall and led to a second story.

The moon was full and illuminated the lobby as best it could through the grim-smeared windows. "Where do we start?" Illya asked and Riley pointed.

"That door leads to the examination rooms." At Illya's look, Riley added, "At least that's according to what the men were saying."

"In an orphanage? Are you sure this wasn't a sanitarium for tuberculosis?" At the blank looks he got, Illya amended. "The White Plague?"

"Perhaps. All I know is that this is a place of evil. You can smell it."

"I smell mold," Illya muttered. "What does evil smell like, Riley?"

Riley yanked open a door and something stumbled out, shrouding in white and its long straggly hair littered with broken branches. "Oh my god, a mullo!" On its head were a pair of horns glistening with something dark in the moonlight. It tipped its head back and screeched at the top of its lungs and Onas screamed, cowering behind Illya.

Illya braced his feet and quickly snatched up a nearby branch. With another scream, Onas darted away, disappearing into the dark.

"Bastard," Illya shouted and slammed the branch into the stomach of the creature. Not to his surprise, there was a grunt of pain and the creature collapsed. He was ready to swing the branch a second time, but Riley caught it mid-arc.

"Stop!" He knelt beside the fallen figure and pulled its horns off to reveal Emilian. "Are you okay?"

"He won't be!" Illya shouted, lunging for him. Riley managed to hold him back. "Calm down, Golden. We were just having some fun."

"Fun? You call that fun?" Illya threw the branch aside. "Onas was terrified and now he's in there. If he gets hurt, I shudder to think what your father will do to you. Or what I will."

"We all had to go through this when we were his age and we lived." Emilian got to his feet and shrugged off the robe. "It's a Romani rite of passage. You wouldn't understand. You're Russian."

"I am Ukrainian. We are much worse." Illya looked around. "How many more of you are lurking in here?"

"A… few."

"Find them and make them look for Onas. God only knows where he's hiding."

"We'll go with you."

"I would prefer not. I am still very angry and can't be held accountable for my actions." He walked away into the murky dark, angry still fueling his courage.

An hour later, he wished he'd not acted so hastily. The inside of the building was a maze. Not only could he not find Onas, but he wasn't even sure where he was anymore.

He shoved a door open, its sheer reticence telling him Onas hadn't gone inside. In the middle of the room was a square glass case and it was bathed in an eerily green light. Illya knew it was simply a trick of the moonlight, but he quickly retreated and pulled the door shut firmly behind him.

That's when he saw the boy cowering in a corner of the hallway. At first he thought it was Onas, but the clothes were wrong. They must have been from another tribe, although Illya didn't know which one immediately.

"Are you lost, too?" The boy tried to bury himself in the wall and Illya realized he'd spoken in Russian. He switched to Romani. "Don't be afraid. Are you lost?"

The boy looked back and nodded, still fearful.

"It's okay. My friend is lost in here, too. If you want, you can come with me." Illya offered his hand and a moment later it was taken. "What's your name? "I'm Golden."

"Petsha." The young boy said. "I'm scared."

"Me, too, but I have to find my friend."

"This is a bad place."

"I agree." Illya walked slowly, making sure the child didn't trip. "I want to leave."

"I can't. I've tried to find my way out, but I can't."

"We'll get out, don't worry." Illya stopped and looked around. The hallway seemed vaguely familiar. "ONAS!"

"Don't shout. He'll find you."

"Who?"

"The monster. The mullo."

Illya heaved a sigh. "Don't tell me that your tribe does the same thing. Stupid!" Illya bit his tongue to keep from swearing in front of Petsha. "It's not a monster. It's just one of your elders playing a fool."

They rounded a corner and Illya heard a faint cry. He gasped. "Onas?" He started towards the sound, but Petsha held him back.

"No, don't! It's the monster."

"You don't understand. That's my friend. I have to help him." Illya shook his hand free and hurried in the direction of the cry. Petsha followed behind, pleading with him.

"Stop! Please, don't! The mullo, the mullo!"

They entered a lobby, no a surgical room. It was high and ended in domed glass, shattered in spots enough to let the moonlight spill in. The room was round and the upper part had rows of benches, like an auditorium. In a far corner Onas was huddled and crying out. Just to his left was Emilian wearing his idiotic mullo outfit and snarling at him.

Illya saw red and charged. He caught the creature and knocked it to the ground. Rolling off it, he grabbed a chair and flung it at him. The creature howled and tried to climb to its feet. Illya kicked it in the head, none too gently and slammed a rusted metal table into its midsection.

"Onas, take Petsha and get out of here."

When his friend didn't move, Illya abandoned his attack and grabbed his friend's hand. Yanking him to his feet, they raced out. He scooped up Petsha as he passed the boy. Illya was pretty strong from his size and the boy was light and easy to carry. That was good. Illya didn't want to be around to face Emilian's fury when he got his wind back.

Illya didn't stop until he'd reached the main lobby and burst through the doors into the woods. Fresh air enveloped him and the sounds of the night welcomed him back.

Riley and Emilian were sitting on a log and Illya set Petsha down and stormed up to them. "What the hell were you doing back there? And how did you get out here so fast?"

"Golden, what are you talking about?" Riley jumped to his feet to hug his brother. "Onas, I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to scare you so much."

Onas pushed him away, his face streaked with tears and dirt. "I hate you."

"You look alright." Illya regarded Emilian. "Apparently I'm not as strong as I thought I was."

"What are you talking about?" Emilian rubbed his stomach. "You whacked me pretty hard."

"Back in the surgical forum. I thought I beat you silly with a chair."

"Not me."

"One of your friends, then."

"Nope. They left an hour ago."

"One of Petsha's tribe, then."

"Petsha? Who the hell is Petsha?"

"A young boy I found while I was looking for Onas."

"The only Petsha I know died years ago." Riley looked from Illya to his friend and back. "They said a mullo got him."

"Petsha! Where did he go?" Illya looked around and groaned. "That's the thanks I get for getting him out. Let's get out of here. It's going to be light soon."

A sense of deja vu washed over Illya as he looked at that lobby. It was nearly identical to the one he and Onas had stumbled into years before. A sense of dread threatened to overwhelm him. Then he'd been young and knew no fear. This time fear was all he knew. Fear for Napoleon, fear that he'd be too late, fear of what he'd find.

Then his hand was grasped and amazed, he looked down at Petsha.

"You helped me once, Golden. Now it's my turn to help you. I'll take you to your friend."

Illya's fingers wrapped around the small hand and he nodded. Now he knew he'd find Napoleon, just as he'd once found Onas. And his team watched as Illya, his hand grasping air, walked slowly down a hallway.

No one could explain how Illya knew right where to go and how he was able to get Napoleon out without ever being hindered by THRUSH. Mark allowed that it was their successful attack, but Illya's team, they had their own theory, but who would believe such things?

A Mullo according to the great god, Wikipedia is a Roma vampire.

"A mullo is created when a person dies suddenly of some unnatural cause or the person did not have proper funeral rites. A mullo is described as having white clothes, hair that reaches to their feet, and one physical oddity (a trait which varies from geographic region to region). A mullo's existence is in seeking out people it did not like in life and harassing that person.

Mullo are believed to return and do malicious things and/or attack by strangling and suck the blood of a person (usually a relative who had caused their death, or hadn't properly observed the burial ceremonies, or who kept the deceased's possessions instead of destroying them as was proper)."

For more information about a mullo, you can check here:

wiki/Mullo


End file.
